


Lungs and Teacups

by XdeadhumanX



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst, Blood, Blood and Injury, Bottom Will Graham, Canon-Typical Violence, Canonical Character Death, Character Death, Death, Developing Relationship, Doctor Hannibal Lecter, Doctor/Patient, Drunk Will, Eventual Sex, Falling In Love, First Kiss, First Time, Hannibal Lecter is a Cannibal, Hannibal Lecter is the Chesapeake Ripper, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, Kissing, M/M, Major Illness, Mutual Pining, Oral Sex, Pining, Possessive Hannibal, Profiler Will Graham, Prostate Massage, Protective Hannibal, Resolved Sexual Tension, Romance, Slow Build, Teacher Will Graham, Top Hannibal Lecter, Will Has Cancer
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-10
Updated: 2020-11-30
Packaged: 2021-03-06 20:22:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,022
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26384824
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/XdeadhumanX/pseuds/XdeadhumanX
Summary: When Will gets diagnosed with extensive-stage small cell lung cancer, he doesn’t think his life could change anymore than it already has. Enter in Hannibal Lecter, the doctor assigned to be his main treatment provider, and everything suddenly turns on its end. A simple doctor/patient relationship blooms into something much deeper and darker as secrets are revealed, betrayals are conceived, and lives are lost.Nothing is ever the same again after their first encounter. But in some ways, maybe that’s a good thing. Maybe the teacup is meant to shatter — and be reconstructed.
Relationships: Will Graham & Hannibal Lecter, Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter
Comments: 10
Kudos: 65





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> My first attempt at a multi-chapter fic! The first chapter may be a tad boring, my apologies if it is. I do hope my writing and characterization are good enough though. I am unsure how often I'll be able to update this work, as I am fairly busy, but I promise I will write as often as I can and post as soon as I am able. 
> 
> Well, I hope you all enjoy this fic! Please do feel free to leave comments and kudos :)

Will coughs and hacks into his elbow, spitting a glob of mucus onto the dirt at his feet. He grimaces at it before looking up and returning his attention to the task at hand. Him, Jack, Jimmy, Brian, Beverly, and a number of other FBI employees are currently standing at the scene of a suspected Chesapeake Ripper murder. 

Beverly, who is standing beside Will, looks at the profiler with concern written across her face. “Are you okay Will? You’ve had a pretty nasty cough for a few days now — you getting sick?”

Will shrugs as he and Beverly begin walking towards Jack, who is standing directly by the body of the victim. “It’s possible. Don’t worry, I’m pretty sure it’s not contagious.”

Beverly shoots a look at Will. “I wasn’t worried about that, just worried about you.”

Will grins. “Alright, if you say so.”

“Will!”, Jack shouts when he sees the profiler. “Just in time. I need you to take a look at this and tell me what you see. We’ll clear the scene, you let me know when we can return.” He turns away from Will and yells at everyone to clear out. 

Once everyone is gone Will sighs and shuts his eyes, beginning his work. ‘ _ He doesn’t hear me as I sneak up behind him  _ — _ the snow under my feet hardly makes a sound as I follow him through the forest. Rag in hand I swiftly place it over his mouth and nose once I reach him and wrap my free arm around his torso, effectively holding his thrashing body against me. Once the man is unconscious I begin my work. After I remove his shirt I make quick work cutting into his chest and prying open his ribs. With surgical precision I remove the heart and lungs  _ —  _ my trophies. This is my design.’  _

Will opens his eyes and calls Jack over, telling him what he’s found out. “This is definitely the work of the Ripper. Same pattern — mutilation while he was still living, organs removed, and the body is out in the open. Not to mention the, shall we say, 'artistry' of it,” Will says, gesturing to the body. The way the way the corpse is laid, sprawled with eyes wide open looking up, makes it appear as if he’s looking to the heavens. Where the heart and lungs once were, there are now bundles of thorny vines. 

Jack sighs and shoves his gloved hands into his coat pockets. Jimmy, Brian, and Beverly are all crowded around the body, taking pictures and gathering evidence. (Well, trying to at least — the Ripper never leaves anything behind.)

“Are you guys getting anything off the body?”, Jack asks, glancing over at the crew. All of them shake their heads in unison. 

“Not a damn thing. This bastard’s very clean,” Brian replies as he inspects the opened chest cavity. 

Will opens his mouth to comment on the lack of evidence but what comes out instead is a series of phlegmy coughs. He quickly buries his mouth into the crook of his elbow as he turns away from Jack and the others, spitting onto the ground once the fit subsides. When he looks back all of them are looking at him with varying degrees of concern, with some possible hints of disgust buried in there. 

“Will, are you alright?”, Jimmy asks as he stands from where he was kneeling beside the body. 

Will wipes at his mouth with his sleeve. “I’m fine. It’s just a cold.”

Jack shifts a bit on his feet as he looks at Will. “You should take a day or two off. I don’t need you spreading that around the department.”

“I don’t need to,” Will retorts, “it isn’t contagious.”

Jack huffs out a breath through his nose. “At least go see a doctor tomorrow. And if they tell you to stay home, you damn well better do so.”

Will raises his hands up slightly in mock surrender and nods. “Alright, I’ll go see a doctor. I’m sure it’s nothing though.”

**************

The next day Will heads to a doctor’s office to get himself checked out. He was tempted to ignore Jack’s orders and just head into work, but he knew if he did it would get him nothing but an angry, yelling boss. So he listened and now here he is, sitting in an exam chair on top of the cheap flimsy paper that crinkles loudly whenever he moves. 

The doctor — Dr. Connel — soon enters the room and asks Will about his symptoms before examining him. 

“Based upon what I’m seeing and what you’ve told me, it appears that you have bronchitis Mr. Graham.”, Connel says as she drapes her stethoscope around her neck. “I’ll prescribe you some pain relievers and a bronchodilator, and just to be on the safe side I’ll give you some antibiotics as well.” She heads over to her computer and begins typing out the prescriptions to send to the local pharmacy.

Will nods as he stands, the paper rustling noisily. “Do I need to take time off of work?” He hopes she’ll say no, but unfortunately for him she nods her head. 

“I’m afraid so. You’ll need to stay home and rest for at least a week.”

Will sighs and rubs a hand over his face — he wants to argue with her, but in the back of his mind he knows this is probably for the best. He’s been feeling quite fatigued lately, so getting some rest sounds nice. “Alright.”

Connel stands once she finishes sending out the prescriptions and turns to face Will, smiling. “You’re all set. Just pick up what I’ve prescribed you at the pharmacy down the road and you’ll be good to go.”

Will attempts to smile back at her, but it winds up feeling more like a grimace. Dr. Connel’s expression doesn’t change though, so he hopes that wasn’t the case. 

Will checks himself out of the office and stops by the pharmacy before he drives home. His eyebrows furrow when he notices that there’s a car parked in his driveway and he swivels his head around to look at his front door, sighing slightly with relief when Alana exits the house, his dogs following her. 

“What are you doing here?”, Will questions as he exits his car, snow crunching under his feet. 

Alana gives Will a once-over as his dogs crowd around him. “I’m worried about you. Beverly told me you’re sick, and that you have a horrendous cough.”

Will sighs. Why the hell would Beverly tell her? “I’m alright. The doctor said it’s bronchitis — I just need to take some medication and stay home for a week, then I’ll be good as new.”

“Will you be okay on your own? Bronchitis can be pretty serious.”

“I’ll be f—“ A sudden coughing fit overtakes Will and he hunches over, burying his mouth into the crook of his elbow. 

Alana rushes up to Will and starts rubbing his back, worry maring her features. “Breathe Will, just breathe.” She continues to rub his back and soon the fit subsides. 

Will spits on the ground and wipes at his mouth. Both him and Alana notice that the mucus is streaked with blood. 

Alana looks up at Will, gnawing on her lower lip anxiously. “Will, please let me take care of you. This is very serious.”

Will musters up what he hopes is a comforting smile. Apparently it works because Alana’s face softens. “I promise I’ll be okay. I can take care of myself.”

The two stare at each other for a short while before Alana sighs and nods. “Alright, I’ll be leaving then. I brought you some chicken soup, it’s on your kitchen counter.”

Will thanks Alana as she walks to her car before he heads inside with his dogs. Later in the evening he heats up the soup Alana brought him and he sits at his small two-person dining room table, blowing on a spoonful before he puts it in his mouth. 

Will’s dog Winston walks up to him and sniffs at the air before he sits down right beside him. 

Will chuckles. “I’m sorry boy, you can’t have any.”

Winston whines and places his head on Will’s lap, nudging at him with his snout. 

“What’s wrong Winston?”, Will asks, his brows furrowed as he looks at his dog. “Do you know I’m sick?” He ruffles the fur on Winston’s head and smiles. “I’m okay boy. It’s nothing serious.”

Little does Will know that his ‘cold’ will soon become a monumental change in his life — in more ways than one. 


	2. Chapter 2

The next morning Will calls Jack and lets him know how long he was ordered to stay home for. He can tell the man is upset that he won’t be in to work for a week, but he doesn’t argue it. Once Will hangs up the phone he sighs and crawls back into his bed. He pulls the sheet up to his chin and shuts his eyes, attempting to go back to sleep. Eventually he’s able to do so, but it isn’t exactly restful. 

Will is awoken by a sudden bout of coughing and he stumbles out of bed, heading into his kitchen and hunching over the sink as he hacks. This time around the fit is so strong it makes him puke. Will clutches onto the counter, trembling as bile and some remnants of chicken soup make their way out of his mouth, splashing into the sink. 

Once Will’s coughing ceases he’s breathing heavily and he looks down into the sink. He’s slightly alarmed to see more blood mixed in with the bile and soup. _‘This must be normal. I’m sure that this happens when you have bronchitis’,_ Will thinks to himself as he cleans out the sink. Afterwards he takes some antibiotics and pain relievers, and uses the bronchodilator he was prescribed. 

When he sits down on the edge of his bed he notices all of his dogs are clustered around him, staring. Even they look worried. Will sighs. “Guys, I’m fine.” As if replying to what he’s said some of them whine, others lay down in a huff. This manages to make him chuckle as he lays on his back and stares at the ceiling. He knows he’s supposed to be resting, but that has become a challenge for him. Just what the hell is he going to do stuck at home for a week? It’s not like he can spend much time outside — the winter air would wreak havoc on his throat and lungs. 

The man huffs out a breath through his nose and rubs a hand over his face. He’ll figure something out. 

**************

Day seven of Will’s stay-at-home order rolls around, and boy is he glad it’s almost over. The past 162 hours have been very tedious — since he’s unable to spend any time fishing or playing with his dogs, all he’s been able to do is read, watch tv, or sleep. The last one has proven to be the hardest. His rest is almost always interrupted by a severe coughing fit, most of them now ending in him throwing his guts up. The man can hardly keep any food down at this rate. Over the past few months his clothes have been fitting more loosely, and he’s noticed recently that they’re even baggier than before. 

Will is currently laying in bed, about to try and sleep for the third time today, when his phone starts ringing. He groans and rolls over onto his side, reaching out to his nightstand and grabbing his phone, glancing at the caller ID before pressing “accept”. 

“Hey Jack.”

“Will. Today is the last day you’re supposed to stay home, correct?”

Will nods before realizing Jack can’t see him. “Yeah, today’s the last day.”

“Good. You’re supposed to teach a class at the academy tomorrow.”

Will sighs — he completely forgot about that. “Right. About profiling criminals.”

There’s brief silence before Jack speaks again. “You alright Will? You sound like shit.”

Will lets out a weary chuckle. “Well I certainly feel like it. I’m fine though. I’ll be in tomorrow, okay?” He hears Jack give a grunt of acknowledgement and mutters a quick “bye” before hanging up and setting his phone back down onto the nightstand. 

He takes a quick glance at his alarm clock to check the time. It’s 6:00 pm. Will decides to go ahead and take a shower before he makes himself some dinner. He crawls out of his bed and walks into his bathroom, shutting the door before he begins removing his clothes. The man sighs as he looks at himself in the mirror. He looks like a ghoul — his face is becoming a tad gaunt, and dark circles have taken permanent residence under his eyes. His hair is as disheveled as can be and his body doesn’t look much better than his face. While there isn’t a terribly drastic change, he can tell he’s been dropping weight. His ribs are just starting to become visible, along with his hip bones.

Will tears his gaze away from his haunting reflection and turns on the shower, stepping in once the water warms up enough. This is the first time in the past week that he’s showered — he’s been too exhausted to bother with it. After thoroughly washing and drying himself he stands in front of the mirror and cleans up his beard. He combs through his hair in an attempt to make it look at least somewhat presentable, and it turns out decent. Well, decent enough. Once he’s taken care of his hygiene he makes himself some dinner, though he isn’t able to even eat half of it. His appetite has been decreasing along with his body mass. 

He decides to give the rest of it to his dogs and they chow down happily, tails wagging fast and hitting each other. Once they’ve finished their — well, his — meal, Will takes them outside briefly to let them go to the bathroom. The cold air burns his throat and he coughs a few times into his clenched fist, his breath puffing out in front of him. After the last of his dogs finishes their business he brings them all inside and one by one they lay in their beds or on the floor, curling up for the night. 

Will decides to call it a night too after he flosses and brushes his teeth. He lays down in his bed and pulls the sheet up to his shoulders, sighing as he shuts his eyes. He hopes he can get an adequate amount of sleep tonight so he’s conscious enough to teach his class tomorrow. 

Will wakes up multiple times throughout the night due to his cough. Thankfully he only pukes once, and he’s able to reach the sink in time. A few days ago he had only just made it out of his bed before he hurled all over the floor. At least it didn’t get on any of his dogs. 

After trying and failing to get another hour of sleep Will rolls out of bed and trudges his way into the bathroom, unwillingly looking at his reflection. His beard is fine, but he needs to do something about his hair. He wets it and runs a comb through it multiple times, eventually managing to make it look less like a rat’s nest and more like regular human hair. Once he finishes up his morning hygiene he gets dressed and slips his glasses on, swinging his messenger bag over his shoulder before grabbing his keys and locking the door after he exits the house. 

When he arrives at the academy Jack and Alana are standing outside his class. He notices Alana’s expression becomes deeply troubled when she lays eyes on him. 

Jack’s expression can only be described as shock. “Jesus Will. You look worse than before.”

Will gives them both a tight-lipped smile. “Thanks Jack.”

“You sound awful too. Maybe you should go home, get some more rest,” Alana suggests, her eyes practically saturated with worry. 

Will shakes his head as he takes out a bottle of pills — pain relievers — and unscrews the cap, dumping a few into his hands and popping them into his mouth. He swallows them and stows the bottle away back into his coat pocket. “No. I’ve been stuck there for a week. Besides, I have work to do. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a lecture to give.” He shoulders his way past Jack and Alana and walks up to his desk at the head of the classroom, setting his bag down on top of it before bringing up a presentation on his computer to display on the projector. 

“Welcome back teach,” one of his many students says as Will turns to face them all. 

Will simply nods at said student, mustering up what he hopes is something that can pass for a smile. “I know I have been gone for a while,” he says, projecting his voice so everyone can hear, “but that is no excuse for any of you to have been slacking off. Now, who can tell me what this is?” He clicks to the next slide in the presentation — a picture of the latest Chesapeake Ripper victim. 

**************

The class goes on for a mere half-hour before something drastic happens.

A coughing fit overtakes Will and he presses a fist to his mouth. The room begins to spin. He stumbles backwards and clutches onto the corner of his desk as his vision starts to blur. Blood — he can taste it, smell it. It takes Will a moment to register that it’s coming from him, from his mouth. He doesn’t get a chance to fully take in that information before his vision goes dark and he collapses. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All aboard the angst train! 
> 
> Now, this is getting serious. Just what the hell is going to happen to poor Will?


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello all! My sincerest apologies for taking so long to update this fic, I've simply been very busy, as there is a lot going on in my life at the moment. This chapter is quite short, and if I'm being honest I don't think it's written too good, but I hope you all enjoy it anyways! Please leave comments and kudos! :)

Will wakes to the sound of steady beeping and the feeling of a needle in his arm. He groans and looks around. There’s an IV drip supplying him with fluids with a heart monitor beside it, and there are leads attached to his chest.

The sound of Will groaning brings about the attention of a doctor in the room. The man turns and puts on a smile, walking up to the side of Will’s bed. “Hello Mr. Graham, I’m Dr. Brook. How are you feeling?”

Will blinks slowly up at the doctor. “Like shit.” When he hears his own voice he realizes he sounds like it too. 

Brook nods as he checks Will’s vitals. “I can only imagine.” He returns his attention to Will after writing a few things down on the chart he’s holding. “Are you in any pain?”

Will nods. His chest is killing him and he aches all over. He tells the doctor this and he writes more things down on his chart. “I see. From what I heard you hit the floor pretty hard when you collapsed, so no wonder you’re aching.”

Will sits up, wincing when there’s a sharp pain in his chest. He completely forgot he had been teaching a class. Dr. Brook places his hand on Will’s shoulder and gently pushes him so he’s laying down again. 

“Try not to move. It’s best you don’t cause yourself any unnecessary pain.”

Will sighs and shuts his eyes. Without meaning to he falls asleep, and he manages to stay that way for a few hours before he’s woken up by Dr. Brook. 

“Mr. Graham, we need to take you to get an x-ray. If we find anything of concern we’ll have to perform an MRI as well.” 

Will groans and winces as he is helped up out of bed by Brook and a nurse. He hopes they don’t find anything. Nothing too serious anyway. 

Once the x-raying process is complete Will is sent back to his room with a nurse and he lays down, resting his head against the elevated bed and shutting his eyes.

Nearly a half hour later Dr.Brook returns with news on the results of the x-ray. Will only has to look at the man’s face to know the news is not good. 

“It looks like we’ll have to proceed with the MRI, Mr.Graham.”

Will bites his lip and nods, once again being helped out of bed by a nurse and led into another room. 

Soon after Will lies down on the bed-like structure of the MRI machine it starts up. He shuts his eyes — if the machine wasn’t so noisy he could have fallen asleep inside it. An unknown amount of time, to Will anyway, passes, and then the MRI is complete. 

Once Will is back in his room and in bed Brook tells him when he should expect to hear about his results. Unfortunately, it can take just over 24 hours. He doesn’t know if he can wait that long. 

**************

The next day consists of nothing but sleep, occasional doctor and nurse visits, and the usual meals. The day after however is much more eventful — not in the way anyone wishes for though. 

Will wakes up just as Dr. Brook walks into the room, a grim look on his face. Will briefly considers telling the doctor to keep his mouth shut, that he doesn’t want to hear the news. But he says nothing.

“Mr. Graham… I’m afraid your results aren’t looking too good.” He sits down on the edge of Will’s bed before continuing. “According to our findings, it appears you have extensive-stage small cell lung cancer. I saw on your records that you used to be a smoker, and that is the cause of this.”

Will’s face is blank. He simply stares at the doctor, hardly even blinking. At some point he clears his throat and glances away from Brook. “How… how much time do I have?”

Dr. Brook sighs and stands up off the bed. “I’m sorry to say that at this moment, we believe you have, at best, three years.”

Will swallows hard and nods. He can’t fathom any of this. Only three years left? That’s hardly any time at all. 

“Later in the day we are going to transfer you to John Hopkins hospital. Specifically to the Sidney Kimmel Comprehensive Cancer Center, where a doctor will be assigned to you and be in charge of your treatment, which should begin tomorrow.” Brook flashes a small smile at Will, telling him he’ll be back in a couple of hours, before exiting the room. 

For the next few hours Will simply lays in bed, either sleeping or staring at the ceiling. He can’t believe this is happening to him. He knew he was an idiot for smoking in the first place, especially for as long as he did, but he never imagined that stupid mistake would snowball into this.

The time comes for Will to be transported to the new hospital, and the man readily welcomes the change. He’s been going stir crazy stuck in that one room for days on end, and he’s glad for a change in scenery. 

As Will is being slowly wheeled towards his new room he can’t help but notice someone out of the corner of his eye. He turns his head to get a better look, and lays his eyes upon a striking looking man. A doctor here by the looks of him. Will doesn’t realize he’s been staring for longer than he should until the mystery doctor looks at him out of the corner of his eye. Will jolts and swings his head to face the other way, embarrassed to have been caught staring. 

Once he is in his new room, and left alone, he sighs and buries his face in his hands. A sudden knock on the closed door startles him and he lifts his head, muttering a soft ‘come in’. Will freezes when the door opens, the striking man from before entering the room and shutting the door behind him. 

The doctor smiles as he looks into Will’s eyes and Will glances away, unable to hold any sort of eye contact with him. 

“You must be Mr. Will Graham.” The man holds his hand out towards Will in greeting. “I’m Dr. Hannibal Lecter.”


End file.
